


Moments of Discovery

by littlewonder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4012870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlewonder/pseuds/littlewonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adventures in body swapping/sharing (one-shots)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Cas looked down at herself with her new eyes, disoriented and out of place. She was wearing a barely covered with top with the pointed tips of what appeared to be a woman’s breasts poking through, and a short red tartan skirt that came halfway up the knee. She was thin, her legs not even touching, and completely hairless below the skirt.

Looking around, she saw a seedy bar, full of beer stains and leering men. Of course. She felt incredibly uncomfortable here, without her usual layers, and desperately missed her old trenchcoat. The one Dean had kept for her.

Dean. If she could only find him. This was the kind of place Dean frequented. Perhaps somewhere…

Ignoring the men’s catcalls that seemed to surround her, pulling down her skirt as far as it would go, her lonely eyes cast out for only one person. She found him, smiling in enjoyment at a table of his own. Cas walked up to him.

“Dean.”

Her voice sounded different. Not the usual low and husky, but a higher tone of sweet and beautiful.

Dean caught eyes with her right away. “Well, hello beautiful,” he said, winking at me. I smile creeped up my face, but I pushed it down. This was serious.

“Aw, now don’t do that,” he said. “Sit down with me, let me buy you a drink.”

She didn’t really want a drink, but she sat down anyway. Perhaps the table would help to hide her legs, at least.

He gestured to the bartender behind me, holding a finger up. “One more.” I pulled down my shirt, but that only made it worse; it was very flimsy, and pulling on it only made the skin underneath more visible, making the bare breasts more obvious.

I caught a look from Dean, watching them lustily.

“Dean, it’s me,” she said, not sounding like herself.

“Have we met before?” he asked. “Maybe in Winsconsin?”

“No.”

Dean continued to guess states and cities until my drink came. When the waiter left, he said, “So just where are you from, sweetheart?”

“Heaven.”

He burst out laughing. Cas studied him, trying to figure out why.

He stopped, looking at her oddly. “You know, you remind me of someone. Baby blues, stiff body. Come on, relax.”

“Dean, it’s me,” she repeated.

He froze. “No,” he said, “you can’t be.”

“I am,” she told him.

“Cas?”

“Yes?”

“No,” he said again. “You’re not Cas. You’re blonde, Cas’s hair is brown. And he’s a man, and you’re a…”

“Woman?”

“Knockout.”

“I’m an angel, Dean –“

“Got that right –“

“I’m not a man anymore than I am a woman.”

“What happened to your own body?”

“I was kicked out of it.”

“Kicked out of it? By who? Jimmy is dead.”

“I suspect it’s the angels?”

“The angels? What for?”

“As a punishment. For bringing the darkness.”

Dean didn’t move. His green eyes still appeared stunned, alive with shock. Cas suspected he still couldn’t believe her. That was okay.

She took a sip.

“We have to get you back.”

“Why?” she blurted. Staring into Dean’s eyes, she suddenly knew why. “Dean, I don’t care what kind of vessel I’m in. All I want is you.”

“And Sammy?”

“No, don’t get me wrong, I care for your brother. But you’re the only one I can’t live without, and I won’t live without. I _need_ you, Dean –“

“Oh no, don’t say that,” he said, turning his head away like he was sick to his stomach. “It’s not right.”

“Why not?” I said. “Just a minute ago, you were –“

“Don’t remind me.”

“I don't understand,” said Cas.

“Cas, you…”

“I’m willing to be anyone for you, but maybe it’s not enough.”

“No. No, it’s not you Cas, it’s –“

“You sleep with women all the time.”

“You… want me to sleep with you?”

“I love you. But I’m beginning to think maybe I was wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“We do not share a more profound bond.”

“Cas, don’t – don’t say that.”

“Then tell me. What am I supposed to think?”

“I… I love you like family, man.”

“It’s never been just family.”

“No. It is, it is,” Dean insisted. “You’re like my brother.”

“But you don’t like at Sam the way you do at me.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means.”

“Look, would you stop with the riddles, alright? Would you just tell me?”

Cas froze. “You really don’t know,” she said.

“Know what?”

“You love me too.”

“No. Not like that,” said Dean, shaking his head with fear in his eyes, “Not in that way.”

Cas tilted her head at him, gazing wonderingly. “You really are the last to know, aren’t you? You don’t hold yourself to the same standard as anyone else. You’re not a monster, Dean.”

“Whoever said I was?”

“You did.”

“Oi, get out of my head!”

“So it’s true?”

Dean fell silently, watching her defensively. “Hey, you wanna get out of here?”

“Definitely.”

\--

Dean ordered a double bed. Cas was now wearing one of his shirts over the flimsy white one her vessel had on, as she watching Dean silently by the door. Without question, she followed into their room on the second floor.

Only once the door was closed did she ask. “Why did you order a double bed?”

“Avoid suspicion,” he said without looking at her. “I bring a beautiful girl alone to a hotel, especially given the way you’re dressed, what am I supposed to do?”

“You want to have sex with me?” she asked.

“The thought did cross my mind,” Dean admitted, staring at her heels.

“But you’re not going to?”

“How could I? You’re still Cas.”

Cas continued to stare at Dean while he unpacked, blue eyes squinted in concentration, head tilted in curiosity. Cas wasn’t entirely sure herself whether she wanted to, but she found it hard to deny the thought.

Dean caught her look, doing a double take at the intensity of her gaze. “What, do you want to?”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” she admitted. “It isn’t as though the implication has never passed between us. But you’re my friend. You’re family.”

“No, we never have been,” said Dean, scanning over Cas’s body again, the spark of lust alive in his eyes. “You’ve always been more than to me.” His body stood stiff, unmoving, and it was evident he was holding back a huge urge.

That’s when Cas suddenly panicked, knowing how close she finally was and not knowing what she really wanted in this moment. “In truth, I’m really not sure if I really meant it. I’ve never… even wanted to, before I met you.”

“So now you don’t want to?”

“No, I… I do,” said Cas, looking for the first time at Dean’s body. There was a temptation there, but it was exactly that temptation she was afraid of. “I’m just… not going to.”

Dean stepped towards him. “Cas,” he said. But he really wasn’t looking at Cas anymore; he was looking at her vessel. “Sometimes we just have to take a chance on what we really want, on what feels right.”

“And sometimes what feels right leads us into temptation, and we lose what is good in us,” said Cas.

Finally, Dean looked into his eyes again. “How can you tell me this is wrong? This has always been what we wanted. I’ve just been too blind to see it.”

“It’s this vessel that’s blinding you. You only see it’s temptations, you don’t really see me. If I had my body back, you wouldn’t be saying any of this.”

“You don’t ever have to take it back if you don’t want to. Those angels don’t know what they’ve given us.”

“I think they know exactly what they’ve done. They haven’t given us anything; they’ve given it to you. It will tear us apart if you give in to this,” said Cas. “Oh, Dean, why couldn’t you just love me for who I truly am?”

“I – I do love you, Cas –“ said Dean before he could stop himself. “I mean –“

“I know what you mean,” she said. “And I love you too, which is why I can’t do this.”

Dean crossed the rest of the distance between them and wrapped his arms tight around her, squeezing her tight. “I don’t want to ever let you go, Cas. No matter what form you come in, no one will ever tear me from you. We’ll always be together.”

Cas hugged him back, on the verge of tears. “I know.”

Neither of them dressed for bed. Cas only buttoned up the shirt Dean had given her, and they got into bed together. Dean put a hand around her shoulders, holding her to him protectively.

“You know, we could still do it.”

“No, Dean,” said Cas.

Dean kissed to top of his head. “You don’t have to be afraid, you know. I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

“I’m more concerned about you.”

“About me? Come on, man, I’ve taken ‘em down before –“

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well what, then?” Dean demanded.

“This is the first time you’ve ever treated me like… a lover. Someone you might be physical with. What happens when I return home to my own body? Are we just supposed to go back to what we before? How would you feel seeing me like that again? Was I so repulsive –“

“No, Cas, no,” said Dean, “that isn’t it.”

“Then what?”

“It isn’t… right. Men don’t treat each other like that.”

“You tell people you don’t judge,” Cas looked up into Dean’s eyes. “That was another lie, wasn’t it?”

“Dean Winchester. 90% crap.”

“But you’re not. You’re so honest with the rest of the world, you tell them what they need to hear. So why can’t you tell yourself that same truth? Why can’t you admit to yourself what this really is instead of using this body as an excuse?” said Cas.

“I’m not in love with you, Cas.”

“Then why are you holding me like this. Like I’m your girlfriend.”

Dean furrowed his eyes at Cas in horror. “I-it’s not like that!” he insisted. “I just feel protective over you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You think I’m a weak woman. I’m not. I’m an angel, Dean, and I can handle myself.”

Cas turned toward him, and gazed intimately at him. In the next moment, Dean kissed her. When he pulled away, Dean’s eyes were full of new shock.

“Do you understand now?” asked Cas.

Dean gazed back at Cas. “This can’t last.”

“It can last as long as you want it. As long as you want me.”

“But-but, I –“

“Don’t say I’m a guy again, Dean. I’m an angel.”

“Right. Well…” His eyes seemed to relax a bit, until they dropped to her chest. “I can live with that.”

He kissed her again, and this time the kiss lasted. It grew deeper, more passionate, more intimate. Dean flipped on top of her, touching her gently, stroking her shoulder as he pressed his lips more fully into her. Cas kissed him back, enjoying the feeling of pressing into Dean, loved his touch. She let him touch her, kiss her, enter her, caring for nothing but the bond that only grew more profound every second. She wanted to remain like this with him forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Dean wakes up in the morning, he is not himself. And both he and the girl possessing him want out.
> 
> (It seems it is possible to force possession of a body if the force comes from a foreign power.)

I woke up with a jolt, and immediately knew something was wrong. I looked down myself under the red blanket, lying in bed with my shirt off. Only I didn't ever sleep with my shirt off, or really anything off, and where there should be boobs, was a man's chest. And not just any man...

His face stared back at me from the bathroom mirror, like some Freaky Friday fantasy, his green eyes, his spiked hair, his weary face, and I recognised him immediately. I had entered the body of Dean Winchester.

I inspected my eyes closer, pulling out the eyelids, stretching out the face. Not mine. His.

I was still exploring, and thinking, about this new discovery, when Sam appeared at the door, appeared in the mirror, watching me. Wary of his face, I continued inspecting my own, as though looking for symptoms.

"You okay, Dean?" he asked.

He thinks I'm Dean. Of course he does, what do I do?

"I feel fine. I mean... you know, just a bit off. I don't feel like myself."

"What happened?"

"I don't know, I had a dream. I guess I wasn't myself."

"Who were you?"

"No one," I said.

"Really, Dean --"

"I mean it," I said. "No one. Just not me, okay?"

But I wasn't Dean, and I'd already started making up a lie. "Cas," I muttered.

He heard me, and turned back from leaving. "Cas?" he said incredulously, eyebrows raised, eyes shocked in that way he always did, incredibly emotive. I wonder vaguely if that's more Sam or Jared.

For a moment, I considered denying it, but it's as good a story as any. "Cas," I repeated, turning to Sammy. And then suddenly there he is, off to my left.

"Cas," I said, looking at him, eyes narrowed as I wondered if he can see me, who I really am. I asked, "Do you know who I am?"

"Of course. You're Dean."

Well, there goes that theory, that he can see my soul. He can't see I'm not Dean. He can't see the man he loves so much. I look between him and Sam, neither one recognising me for who I am, the girl I am inside. If I play my role right, if I play Dean the way he already exists in me, I can fool them. But the question is, should I?

My instinct kicks in, though, and I keep my mouth shut. At least, for now. I still feel guilty about this.

"What has happened to you, Dean?" Cas asked, and for a moment I wonder if he really did see my soul, or at least that something was wrong, "why are you questioning who you are?"

"He had a dream," said Sam, "that he was you."

Cas looked at me. "No, you didn't," said Cas, as if he knew, and I began to wonder if he did.

I stepped towards Cas, gripped his shoulder careful to do it as Dean would, and implored into his eyes with the best Dean-charm I could muster. Yes, it's manipulation, but I needed this. In a way, I needed him to see me, for them both to see me as Dean, and to accept me as such. Even though I was terrified of not matching up. "How do you know what I dreamed? Did you see? Do you see me?" I asked.

"Dean, I don't --" said Cas, confused.

And there was the answer. He didn't. I had to admit I was a little disappointed. That feeling alone gave me the knowledge of what I must do. I knew I couldn't get through this with them thinking I was him. It was impossible. I couldn't be him, I couldn't be that brave.

"I'm not Dean," I confessed.

"You are Dean," Cas insisted.

"I'm not," I said, listening to the masculine husk of my own voice. "You know it, Cas. Look at me."

"I'm looking. I see you."

"Dean, you are you," said Sammy, and suddenly I saw him, and then noticed what little space remained left between me and Cas, and suddenly I was embarrassed, never having felt such intimacy, especially not such public intimacy. It scared me.

"Get out, Sammy," I said, before I even registered how rude I was being. I was immediately apologetic, and struggled to keep in my apologies. "I just mean... can you give us a moment, Sam, me and Cas, to talk?"

"What are we going to talk about, Dean?" said Cas, and inside I swore him out. But Sammy stayed still, looking between us, clearly seeing the intimacy that would've served a good excuse under normal circumstances. But he wanted to know my secret, the one I clearly had the intention only to tell Cas, and I supposed it might make me a bad brother if I left him out of it.

"Okay," I said, "look. I'm not really Dean. But isn't it funny that he was the body I woke up in? Imagine if I had woken up as you?" I asked Cas. "Then where would we be? Because I know you can see me, you can see inside me. If I were you, I'd have Dean to answer to. And I don't know how I'd handle that. I can hear him in me. I can hear him just as clearly as you saw hallucinations of Lucifer," I told Sammy. "He doesn't want me calling you Sammy, either. He says only he's allowed to call you that. The real Dean."

"Well, if you're not him, how do you know so much about us?"

"Supernatural," I said. "The books, I'm a fan of the books."

"Was Sam's hallucinations in the books?" asked Cas.

I thought about it, but I really didn't know. I wasn't from this world, I haven't read the books. "Is there a book called The French Mistake? Have you seen it -- or read it?"

"No," said Cas.

"You were in it," I said. "You had something to do with it. You sent us -- well, there was this world..." I looked at Sam. "You met Misha, and Jared and Jensen."

"Who's Misha?" asked Cas.

"It was a TV show, instead of a book series. They were the actors."

"I see."

"I'm from there, from that world... somehow, whoever brought me here, brought me from that world. And I've been watching it."

I had nothing left to say after that, so I just looked at Cas. He looked at me back with those intense blue eyes, and I blushed. That stare wasn't for me, and I just didn't feel right looking back at it. I felt I was intruding, especially as all the dirty thoughts flooded into my mind, and I tried to find something, anything to distract me.

I began to move around, returning to my bedroom in the bunker for a shirt to put on. "Who's hungry? I'm hungry. What do you say we go out for breakfast?"

Avoidance, just as Dean would do. Maybe that's why they chose me. Who would believe I'm not Dean, when I'm so like him?

It must've been the first time since finding the bunker that they spent any unnecessary time away. It was their new home, after all, so why should they have to leave any more than normal people would? But I insisted on going out, just to put some space between me and Cas and to give me some reason for dressing. I tried to dress as much like Dean as possible, and then we all piled into Baby, Cas in the backseat.

Sam offered me the keys. "I can't drive," I admitted.

"You really aren't Dean," he said, taking the driver's seat and picking the music. Dean told me it was crap, and blamed me.

It was a diner with blue on the walls, and we took a booth at the window. Dean complained of what he would do to me if I didn't order pie, so I did. It was surprisingly easy to get.

I talked about my world, the other version of reality I'd come from. "I hope I'm not like Becky," I told them. "I like to think I'm more like Charlie. Oh god, Charlie..." I bent my head over the table, over my food.

"Why, what's wrong with Charlie?" asked Sam.

"You... you don't know yet, do you? There's still a chance to save her..."

"Save her from what?"

I didn't even hold back. "She dies. Dean blames you."

"She what?" Sam cries.

"You heard what I..." I turned to Cas, suddenly noticing him there again, suddenly conscious of his stare and everything I knew was behind it. I was suddenly compelled, and thinking of all the fangirls at home, announced out of sympathy, "He loves you too, by the way. I know he'd never admit himself, but I thought you should know, after everything you've done for him over the years... He loves you," I said, leaving no room for doubt over what I meant.

For a moment, I withdrew. If this was my life, I never would have said it. I'd lived and died without ever admitting that to anyone outloud, embarrassed as it would make me. Was it really right of me to say it here? Beneath the surface, Dean was fighting me hard on it. I knew I would too in his position. I replayed the scene, taking it back in my head. But I didn't really regret it.

I wonder if I still have the Mark of Cain. With his eyes on me, I remember how he reacted last time Cas discovered it. I pull back my sleeve, and there it is. So there's a chance I could go dark while I'm here. Great.

"You have the Mark of Cain," Cas stated the obvious.

"Yeah, I know," I said. "We can still save her."

"No, we can't. We couldn't escape that any more than anything Chuck ever wrote for us," said Sam.

"Chuck is dead," said Cas, and I hung my head to suppress another truth. "No, he's not. He's alive." I felt guilty for saying it. He could still be relying on complete anonymity. His life may still depend on it.

"That isn't possible," said Cas.

"It is. He is," I said.

"Then maybe he knows something about all this."

"I doubt it."

"We have to try," said Sam.

"He's still writing about us. Or you. But he might be in danger if we visit him. He's not God. I've only been watching Supernatural for a year, but I understand that. He may have thought he was..."

I thought about the coming darkness. Would Chuck, or any of them, survive it, after I escaped? God could be using Chuck as a vessel, if there was any chance that God could return to banish the darkness again. But what would happen to Dean, the angels, Cas in that scenario? Could humans and angels survive that? Had the angels? Had Cas?

After pie and an argument, we returned to the bunker, if only to regroup and plan our next move. But I was still discovering my new body, and who I was in it, so I left them to think and returned to my room.

There was a mirror in there, and I studied my image in it before my hands trailed down below my pants to grab my penis. I'd always wondered what it was like on the other side of things, to have a male orgasm. At first, I just explored the feel and the shape of it, testing it out. Then I began slowly pumping...

Don't objectivify me, his voice said, more like a memory than real. I apologised, but I didn't stop. Couldn't, I was too greedy to see what it was like, while I was here. I'm sorry, I replied, I have to. I have to know.

Of course, I added, fantasising further, imagining what else I could do with this body, what further aspects of being a man I could sexually explore, I could go further. I could find a girl. I'd love to know what it's like to sleep with a girl... but you'd have to take over from me from that, if I ever wanted to get one. Could you? I paused, looking for a reply. No, I'll never what it's like to sleep with a girl. Even with your body. I'll just have to settle for this, without being inside anyone.

I pulled down my pants, whipped it out, and started pumping. Then again, I thought, maybe I could. If not women, I could find someone to stick it in. Cas, maybe.

At that moment, Cas walked in. He saw me, and I turned away out of instinct. "Don't look at me," I said. Then I stopped a moment, and look back at him over my shoulder. He was Cas, and I was Dean. Or at least, in his body. Perhaps I could give him a gift, the one thing Dean had been afraid to do for Cas.

I turned, faced him, and took off my shirt, standing tucked away before him, with my jeans unzipped and my chest bare, looking for approval. I stepped towards him. "Do you like what you see?" I asked.

He stared at me, eyes scanning me with a stoic distance. He was resistant, but tempted. "You're not Dean," he said.

"No, I'm not," I said, taking another step forward. "But he wants this, I can feel it."

"I don't believe you."

"What's the matter? You don't think you're worthy of being loved?"

"That's not it, Dean. No, you're not Dean. Who are you, really?"

"My name's Ashley." And at that, at the sound of my name in Dean's voice, I felt the need to elaborate. "I'm a girl. I believe Sam and Dean once knew someone of a similar name. He died."

"But you're not him."

"No."

For a moment he stared at me, the earlier intensity gone, replaced with a bluer, more searching look. "I don't believe he would want this."

"No," I repeated. "Not on the surface, anyway. I believe he's always wanted it. He's just never let himself act on it."

"Then you shouldn't."

"Fine, you can leave the room," I said. So he did.

I looked back at myself in the mirror, reminded how my own body had hypnotized me on occasions like this. I remembered, and I let him see, if no other reason than he was part of me, and being on the subject on sex and all, I didn't think it was fair to have such a one-sided relationship. I let him see me, well endowed enough that he might look at me if I were hotter. If our bodies were put back the way they were before, we could have sex, were there not the barrier of worlds. So I just stared, letting him admire my memory as I was now admiring him in the mirror.

I felt like such a slut.

Cas came back into the room, and casually I looked at him, still wanting what I wanted from him, but feeling like the girl in the way, feeling too much like April. I didn't care, though, still too greedy for him.

"Change your mind?"

"No," said Cas. "I just thought, I just worried what you might do to Dean. I don't know you. I don't know what you want, what your plan is."

"You think I'm like Zeke," I said. "Or, who you thought was Zeke. I can assure you, I am who I say I am."

"I'm more worried about your motivations than your identity."

"Of course. This is a serious situation. I am in his body. But you'll get him back."

"How do you know?"

"You guys... always... find a way... to fix whatever is happening at the time... I know you'll fix this too..." I said.

I was struggling to think, but there also something else behind it. At every pause, pushed against the growing strain in my pants. Still unzipped, it had become easily visible through my white underwear, and now we'd both bent our heads to look at it. I could already see this becoming a problem.

"I'd better go --"

I caught Cas by the shoulder, stopping his exit. "Wait," I said. "He wants you."

"You want me."

"That's right, I do." I grabbed his other shoulder and pushed him into the wall, kissing him roughly. I pulled away. "I'm not going to rape you, Cas. So I need to hear you say it. I need to hear you say you want me."

I knew what he was going to say before he said it. "No. I don't want you."

"Alright," I said, lifting my hand and backing away. I turned from him. Cas began to leave the room.

"But just so you know," I said, looking over my shoulder at him, "he wants you too. Even if I'm in here, he's in here too. And he wants you just as much."

Cas looked at me. He seemed to believe me this time. There must've been something coy and genuine in my expression, something Dean-like, that made him stay. He closed the door, continuing to stare.

He walked towards me and kissed me. We kissed hotter and deeper until we stumbled onto the bed. I was filled with a hot pressure that just grew harder and taller. It spread throughout my body like wildfire.

It was like a threesome with a difference, and I was in complete control. I got what I wanted. I got to be in him. I got to be on top. It was like a fangirl's dream come true.

Cas came, incredulous, something like pain shuddering through his eyes as he stared unwaveringly at me.

I wondered if I did something wrong. "C'mon, Cas, don't look at me like that. I'm kinda still searching what it means to be a man, alright?"

"No. It was good," he said. "Just more than I was expecting..."

\--

"Jesus Christ," I swore.

Sam looked up at me. "What?".

I looked back at my screen, hesitating. "Nothing," I said.

"No, really, Dean, what?"

I looked up from my screen, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Right. Ashley," said Sam.

I reconsidered. I may as well tell him. "I looked up Cas."

"Cas?" said Sam.

"Yeah. Cas. The lore, you know."

"You looked up the lore?"

"Yeah," I repeated.

"And?"

"Well, was Dean born on a Thursday?"

"Why?" asked Sam.

"Well, Cas is the angel of Thursday. He answers anyone born on Thursday or who asks for help on Thursday. So either Dean was born on a Thursday, or he's just always managed to ask for help then."

"Holy shit. Maybe that's why he never answered me," said Sam. "Never thought to look up the lore for Cas. That's just for the monsters we kill."

"Well, that's the perks of having an outsider," I replied. "Besides," I said, "Cas represents November, and I was born then. And he represents the Topaz, which is my birthstone." Privately, I thought that should be the wedding ring, if Dean and Cas ever got married. "I wonder if Dean was born then. Was he?"

"I don't really know," said Sam.

"How could you not know, he's your brother."

"Never really came up. He was always so worried about me... no one ever made time for him," said Sam. "Maybe you should've been in Cas."

"No, it's better I'm in his companion. Besides, beneath the surface, I'm more Dean than Cas, anyway." I shrugged.

Sam stared back at me again. I hoped he wasn't too weirded out by me. I really hoped he didn't know what I did with Cas. Who knows what he might do to me for that?

"Uh, so anyway, I found Chuck's address. What do say we go pay him a visit?"

"Yeah, sure. I can do that. We can do that. Yeah, let's go, Sammy," I said.

"Dean said --"

"Yeah, yeah, okay, let's just go," I said, pushing down that name.

It was just like the first time. Chuck opens the door, not believing that it's us, except now I have to play the part. "Hey, Chuck. Heard you were still alive," said Sam.

Chuck honestly looks scared. Scared of us. "What you been doing?" I asked, "Writing about us? You know, we saw the musical. Guess what gave you away?"

"Now guys, guys..." said Chuck, backing from the door, "please. Don't hurt me. I had to do it. They came after me, the angels. I had to fake my own death in order to stay alive."

"Well, why are you scared of us? We're not angels."

"You said it yourself. You'd hunt me down if I wrote more about you guys. I thought I was safe. I was only releasing them as ebooks..."

"Look, man, I sympathise, really I do. But why are you even writing them? If the angels --"

"Look, I'll level with you. It was the demons who really came after me. They wanted dirt on you guys, but I swear I didn't tell them anything. Even if the angels refused to see it that way --" Chuck screamed as I pulled a knife on him, trapping his arm against it. "Who says I believe you?"

"Dean, please!" cried Sam, pulling the knife off me. "We're not threatening Chuck, alright?"

I felt defensive. I was only trying to be a man and take control. And what was it Sam had last said to Chuck?

"You're not?" gasped Chuck.

"No. We just need to talk. Can we come in?" Sam looked at me in disappointment, a look that said, 'oh, right. You're not my brother'. It hurt more than I thought it would.

"Sure, come in," he said, standing aside. Sam led the way in, and Chuck followed me warily inside.

He kept well clear of me as he moved around to face us again. "So, what do you need?"

"You're the last remaining prophet, Chuck. We need you to put Dean back in his body."

"But that's --" He paused on me. "Oh. No wonder you behaved that way with me. You're not him."

I couldn't help but be insulted by that. I wasn't some kind of monster. Sure, I wasn't perfect either, but... I absent-mindedly pulled my sleeve up again to look at the mark. Maybe I was.

"What's inside there?" asked Chuck, eyes flying from the mark to my face. "Angel or demon? Either way, I hope you --"

"Just a girl. Just a human," I said.

"Dean must be loving that."

"He hates it, actually."

Chuck smiled to himself, thinking.

"So can you fix this?" Sammy asked.

"I don't know what you want me to say. I'm just a prophet, I don't know anything, I'm not god."

"You've changed your tune."

"What do you expect? I've been treated no better than a dog by heaven. Heaven wouldn't do that to god."

"Don't be so sure. If god's nothing more than a deadbeat dad, maybe he had his reasons, like ours did. He made it right in the end, and so can you. Angels may be dicks, but maybe not all of them."

"So you'll help me?"

"You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."

"You sound a lot like Dean, are you sure...? Well, anyway, I told you already, I don't know --"

"You can find out," said Sam. "I know you can."

"Alright. I'll do it."

I watched Sam summoning Crowley, imagining me, imagining this body, sleeves rolled back and arms bulging. Chuck cowered behind me.

Crowley appeared. "Crowley," said Sam, "we need you to call your demons off."

Crowley's eyes moved automatically to Chuck. "What do you want with him? And what has that got to do with me?"

"Back off," I growled, clutching my knife.

"Mark of Cain itching, is it?" teased Crowley. He wasn't afraid of me without the First Blade. I squeezed the handle of my glittering blade anyway.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You won't touch him."

Crowley looked twice at me. "You're not Dean Winchester," he said. "You're Castiel. Finally got sick of all that sexual tension and decided to get inside Dean one way or another, eh?"

I blushed, I couldn't help it. I imagined what I did with Castiel, knowing he couldn't possibly understand. Now he must really think I was Cas.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think I do."

"What you think doesn't make it true. I'm not who you think I am. But I'm not Dean, either. You gonna help us out or not?"

"Well, if you're not Dean Winchester, and you're not Castiel, who the hell are you? And more importantly, what are you willing to give me in return?"

"What do you want?"

Crowley looked between me and Sam mockingly. "Honestly, Sam, this is just unprofessional. You know what I want!"

"And what's that?" I asked.

"My mother dead!"

I looked down at the mark, turning it towards me. Charlie alive, Rowena turned against Crowley. And Sam's deal?

"That's not happening," said Sam, his voice heavy.

Yep, deal's on. I knew what Dean would say. He'd demand why not. And Sam would come up with some excuse. But I wasn't Dean. I knew what was going on.

I hesitated a moment, not wanting to change the course of events. Then I thought of Charlie, and shrugged it off. "Okay," I said.

"Dean, are you kidding me--"

I looked at him. His eyes withdrew, remembering. "Oh, right," he said. "Well, still, you can't--"

"No. I have to. I will. I'm doing this, Sam."

He gazed at me with those brown eyes, studying me, searching for a way out. I knew what he wanted to say, he needed her. Well, too bad.

"Fine, but I want to see her dead body at my feet before I do anything for you, boys. I'll keep your boy here as insurance," said Crowley, leering at Chuck.

What had I done? Still, Chuck was more important than Rowena. Charlie, too. Even if Sam needed her for the cure. I honestly didn't care if I never got it cured... until I thought of Sammy, and Cas... Damn. What was I gonna do?

Sam turned on me as soon as we stepped outside. "What have you done?"

"I don't know. I screwed up."

He looked at me. "No more than Dean would've."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," he reassured me.

"We have to kill Rowena," I said, thinking.

"We'll think of something. Fake her death?"

"Maybe..."

And just like that, I was on Sam's side. Dean writhed under the surface.

It occurred to me that, like me, Dean's always been in a woman's role. Adam was John's "real kid", Sammy was the favourite, and Dean was just the little bitch to be thrown in line. No wonder he always feels like shit about himself. Because let's be honest, he's never got the most love. He hates himself precisely because John never loved, well, loved him enough. In the end, it should be said, he turned it around and sacrificed his soul for Dean, and apologised for everything he's ever done wrong. But to me, it was never enough. Dean deserved more, not the constant lie to himself over who he really is that made him hate himself so much.

To be honest, maybe that's why he was at least Bobby's favourite. They shared something in common. That entire domination by their fathers.

I was going to do him proud. I was going to get that bitch Rowena.

I checked the boot for weapons, dragged Cas along and went to the warehouse where Rowena was being held. I stormed in with Cas aiming Sam's cameraphone right at me while I slashed into his mother, flashed him a smile and sent it off to Crowley.

Cas turned eyes full of intimate concern on me. I ignored him. He stayed with me, sat down beside me while we waited. Hour later, we got a reply.

Crowley was in. Cas took Rowena and locked her in the Impala before we walked out together.

I looked at him, once we were alone. I had time for him now. "You'll get him back soon," I said. "Promise."

"What we just did --"

"It was for Dean. To get rid of the mark. I'm in control, Cas, I promise he won't remember."

"It was the mark, that made you do that, wasn't it?" he said. "It still controls you as much as it does him."

"You don't know me. I could be a killer."

"You're not. You're a fan."

"How do you know? You don't know me."

"I can see you. You forget. I may not know you, but I know what you are."

I looked ahead as we walked. "Good to know."

Rowena's unconscious body was enough to fool Crowley, leading Chuck to fulfill his promise. Crowley would leave Sam's mission alone until the last moment, all the time thinking his mother was dead. All this, however, I never saw. I woke up again in my bed, in my own body, the next day, never to see any of them again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As darkness descends on the world, Cas must find a new vessel, and the only one he can detect in existence is Dean Winchester's. However, as he enters Dean's body, he also enters his soul. And what he finds there will change their relationship, and give him a new understanding of who Dean really is.

The red cloud billowed out of Crowley, but it essentially had nowhere to go. Still, a last ditch effort for a dying man-demon, doomed to fail unless there was someone else in the vicinity… Oscar was dead, and Rowena was probably too powerful. Cas lifted his red eyes from Crowley’s corpse as shadows began to descend into the warehouse. Rowena had essentially beastified him, and those instincts were kicking in. Cas’s remaining grace flooded out of Jimmy’s body as he chased after Crowley… Then moments later, barely escaped the warehouse before he was engulfed in darkness.

Cas needed a human body to sustain him. Without Jimmy, he was lost and dying, blind, with nothing to latch onto… Until he sensed Dean’s soul amidst the gloom, somehow alive, somehow alone, and Castiel rushed to him, the only man left in the world who could save his life.

As he flooded inside, he heard voices, saw the endless memories flood his entire being, taking away his beastly nature, calming him down, filled and fused with nothing but Dean Winchester.

Dean, his true voice called out to him, yet somehow the body contained it, was able to hold on. This was Michael’s vessel, after all, and if he could contain that much power, surely it could contain him. Still, he felt Dean burning, voice cut off in the gloom.

Cas? His soul replied, astounded and afraid. I didn’t let you in, how did you --?

You must have, he said. I don’t know how I got here. And if you didn’t let me in, how can I be… he trailed off, feeling at the memories and emotions inside him. He had never felt Dean’s soul so strongly, never felt his pain or his past so profoundly. He had never known Dean like this. Dean. I had no idea.

What the – Get out of there!

Dean, I’m sorry. I never understood until now… how much you were hiding –

Those are my memories, those are private!

Cas felt Dean pushing back. But he had felt the pressure, the nothingness, the person he never wanted to be and the person he really was. He felt the oppression of his past, the suppression of his present, and the fear of his future. Dean wasn’t whole, hadn’t been since he was only a child, and the shame of all that hit him at once, consuming him and breaking his heart. And there was nothing he could do to save him, nothing he could do to fix him. 

I never knew, Cas repeated, feeling sorry that Dean’s shame, his guilt, his fear ran so deep, I’m sorry.

Don’t be, alright, just… get out of there. He said it more gently this time, his soul opening up to Cas, softening under Cas’ angelic touch, under his love and compassion, despite the anger Cas could still feel emanating from him.

Cas buried himself within that deep well of Dean’s being, not taking over but laying dormant, doing nothing, he felt, to heal him from the inside. Instead, he hid, but in doing so felt Dean pulsing around him, alive with every emotion Dean possessed. Yet Cas sensed there was more, felt something even deeper, way deeper, felt something was missing at the surface.

Where is your hunger, Dean? He searched around at the edges and finally found it sunk to the bottom of his soul, underneath his darkest despair. It had long separated from him, covered by layers of protection and duty to his family, under his love and hope, and fear and shame. It lay where no one could touch it, under lock and key. He had separated it from himself, that old desire, that – he could hear Dean’s thoughts – selfishness.

It wasn’t selfish to want love. Even now, Castiel loved Dean, he loved him with all of his heart, and he would still do anything for that love, even in this darkness. Even in the emptiness left behind.

Cas sat in his heart, waiting, craving to be loved. That love filled Dean’s soul, and now Dean had paused what he was saying, feeling it too. He could feel Cas, knew he was inside him, knew he had been possessed.

Cas heard the words, “I think Cas is inside me.”

He could imagine how that went over. He could even hear Sam’s voice coming down to him, though he couldn’t make out the words. Instead of listening, he stepped into one of Dean’s memories, entering Dean’s past as Sam and Dean sat in the back of the Impala while John drove down the road.

Cas was seated between the brothers, unseen by them, merely an observer. Cas squinted his eyes into the rearview mirror as he stared resentfully, even protectively, at Dean’s father. Something in him could already sense the fear attached to this moment. He could feel it in waves coming from Dean, and for a moment he glanced at the human child next to him, almost unrecognisable on the outside. But he knew, could feel, that this was Dean. And he knew something was wrong, that something had happened already.

Dean had told him glowing stories of his father, and the effect he’d had on Dean. Cas had taken them at face value, had accepted them, had even been happy for him. But the moment he entered Dean’s memories, the moment he found himself ever deeper into Dean’s soul, he saw it all: had seen what John had done; he had seen his disapproving eyes, even at times his disapproving hand, as Dean let him down again and again. This isn’t the man Dean wanted him to see. Dean wanted to share, if not the love (which must have been there), then the lessons, the positive ones, which John had passed on. Because he was afraid to think of the bad things from his childhood, afraid what that would do to him. He needed to keep his forgiveness for his father, something that Castiel respected. But seeing John Winchester for the first time as he really was, there was a part of him that didn’t look at him so kindly.

But he would give him a chance, for Dean’s sake. He wanted to see what kind of man he really was, he wanted to see why Dean felt the way he did, why being anything less than manly like his father was such a disgrace.

He wanted to know why his own desires had become so worthless to him. Why he himself thought he was so useless.

“I’m disappointed in you, Dean,” said his father, not looking at him but keeping his eyes on the road. “I thought you knew better than that. I thought I taught you better than that. You gotta keep your hands steady. How are you going to protect Sammy when I’m gone?” Cas’ awareness was jolted by that simple question. Like John always knew he would die someday, and it was Dean’s job to be the man, to be the father when he was gone. His job.

“I couldn’t help it, dad. I was scared.”

“You know who whines? Babies. You’re a man now, Dean. I’ve raised you right, you know what you have to do.”

Cas realised without even thinking that this was the core of all it; his determination to be manly, to be tough, to take care of Sam, to do and be everything that John ever was. Because he was terrified that if he didn’t, he would lose everything he’s ever known.

But you have me, thought Cas. And I don’t care about those things, Dean. You don’t need them. You don’t have to feel like a failure anymore. You’re not a failure. You’re the man I love…

Somehow, he felt like that thought flowed from him into Dean, like he could hear him. Cas directed himself out of Dean’s memories. There was still something missing, something he still didn’t understand yet. Let him become you, and then come out of him a new man, yourself but different, with a new understanding of who you are.

He emerged from those memories of John, into a new space. There was darkness around him, and there was light: the balance of cold and warmth, the raw emotions and the fear, the sadness and the jokes. Cas felt Dean’s love enter into him as if his heart rested in Cas’ being, warm in his centre. That’s what Dean was, despite the horrors and the fear, despite his entire life being shrouded in darkness like the kind that now surrounded Dean’s body, and the thing that hid from him inside of it. Dean was warm, and tender, and brave. And he had always been worth it.

But here, in the centre of Dean, there was more, so much more, that threatened to consume him and lose him inside of it. He didn’t want to be like Jimmy, but he didn’t fight it either. He let Dean in, let him blend into who Castiel was, but his grace protected him in his own determination not to lose himself in the process.

You are not useless, Cas thought, even as distant memories flooded into him, memories of failing to protect Sammy, losing Sammy, and of that fierce face looming over like one of those monsters that towered over him even as his father did, eyes dark, a firestorm, yet still that deep brown colour. You are not useless, he repeated as John Winchester slapped him, face red, yelling at him like it was his fault, feeling Dean believing him, all his life. You are not useless, You are not useless, You are not useless, Cas said, and something within Dean shifted. You are not useless.

Something in Dean rose, like a lift of the head from the ground. Shame rose from the bottom like sediment shaken from the bottom of a bottle, and Cas took it before he could bury it again, absorbing them so he could steal them out from Dean’s being, if only to give him a little relief. Cas took it, and felt it lifted to the surface of his soul, that shame, staring into the new lightness of Dean’s soul from where he was inside it.

Dean was talking, unloading his burden. The lift of shame from within his body felt like a miracle, like something had finally brought down his walls and Cas could truly be invited in to who Dean was. He felt Dean letting him in. He let himself in.

And there it all was, laid out before him. Behind the shame, the fear, the love, what his dad wanted to him to be and who Cas made him, was the real Dean, the part even Dean couldn’t reach, full of his hunger for love, surrounded by all his protectiveness, loyalty, compassion; irrevocably in love, kindness and intimacy embracing Cas; open and honest Dean, fighting for life, for love, and for his soul; and there Cas stayed, bathing in the best part of Dean, letting it become him, ignorantly living out the year silently in Dean’s soul, whispering advice, giving him flashes his own memories, sending waves of his own feelings, until the darkness parted, and Cas was freed from this body, until he woke up lost in Jimmy’s body and longing for Dean. 

He rose from the empty floor, taking it slow, looking around, soul aching. Cas found Crowley’s phone forgotten on the floor, and immediately called Dean. He got him on the third call in a row, still leaning in the dirt barely raised above his elbows. He smiled the instant he could hear Dean’s barking voice. He asked where he was. And then he drove there as fast as he could.

When he arrived, Dean paused, as though seeing Cas as if for the first time, could feel the wings sprouting from his back as he too became consumed with Castiel. He could see Cas’s soul, and it was – dare he say it? – beautiful. He had never felt so alive, so hungry, so in love. And somehow, all that hate and shame melted away from him. He even felt happy; love made him light, lighter than he had ever been.

He embraced Cas, finally glad to truly be home, where he belonged.


End file.
